Page 80 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

“And?”

He gave me a look. “And that makes it your business.”

“The fuck it do.”

My client slowly pulled her hands from underneath the lamp. “You’re good, Keisha, give me a minute.”

She nodded, grabbed her purse, and didn’t need to be told twice. Once she was gone, I walked toward the front and locked the door then I turned around. “Now say whatever the fuck you came to say.”

He looked at me for a second. “Deuce got something that belongs to some people.”

“I heard you the first time you came to my house.”

“Apparently you didn’t.”

“No, apparently you didn’t hear me.”

I pointed toward the door. “I don’t have Deuce’s money or his product. I don’t know where either one is. And I ain’t about to go searching through shit trying to find it.”

His jaw shifted. “He should’ve made sure his business was handled.”

“Then maybe you should’ve told him that before his ass got locked up.” He stared at me and I stared right back. I wasn’t standing outside my house scared anymore. He had come into my business and my livelihood. The one place that belonged to me and had absolutely nothing to do with Deuce.

Now I was pissed. “Look,” I said. “Whatever street shit my husband got himself involved in is between him and whoever was dumb enough to do business with his ass.”

The man’s eyes hardened. “Watch how the fuck you talk to me!”

“Or what?” I stepped closer. “You came into my shop fucking with me. So don’t come in here trying to check me.”

He looked around again. “You have a lot to lose.”

My stomach dropped, but I kept my face straight. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You got a business.” His eyes came back to me. “A family.”

I went cold. “Don’t you ever mention my family.”

“I’m just telling you what’s at stake.” I stepped closer. “You’re threatening me.”

“I’m telling you Deuce is running out of time.”

“And I’m telling you I can’t help you!” My voice bounced off the walls. “He ain’t answering to me right now either! You think because we’re married I know every move that man made?” I laughed. “Clearly I fucking don’t. Because if I did, I wouldn’t have been finding out pieces of my own husband’s life from strangers and side bitches. “You want your money?” I pointed toward the courthouse. “Go ask the judge to let his ass out so he can get it for you.”

His mouth twitched. “Don’t work like that.”

“Well, neither does coming into my nail shop bothering me.” I walked over and unlocked the door. “We're done.”

He didn’t move immediately and I held it open. “Get the fuck out.”

He walked toward me. When he got close, he stopped. “Tell Deuce his time is almost up.”

I looked him dead in his face. “You tell him.” His eyebrows pulled together. “You seem to know his schedule better than I do.”

Neither one of us moved then he walked out. I slammed the door behind him and locked it. The second that lock clicked, my hands started shaking. “Fuck.” I backed away from the door and my knees felt weak. I hated that this man could walk into my business and make me feel unsafe.

First my house and then my shop. The second Brittany crossed my mind, something inside me changed. I grabbed my phone. For weeks, I’d ignored every county call that came through. Deuce wanted me to answer his calls so damn bad, the next time that jail recording came across my phone telling me an inmate was calling I was accepting that motherfucker.

Before Deuce got one word out about missing me, loving me, or wanting his family back, he was going to tell me exactly what the fuck he had gotten us into. Because his bullshit wasn’t knocking on his door anymore it was knocking on mine.